


meow.

by brandywine421



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cats, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:44:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4365275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd learned Steve didn't need to turn green to Hulk out.  Captain America was head of the Avengers, but Steve Rogers was a ruthless army of one on the hunt for his best friend.</p>
<p>"Zola's experiments went on for years and we only have scraps of his research.  We had nothing on this - but his DNA's been altered, Steve."</p>
<p>Steve's eyes flashed and he clasped his hand on the edge of the desk.  "Okay."</p>
<p>Bruce hesitated.  "Not like yours, or mine, or Red Skull's.  I don't know everything they did to him, but he has...feline traits.  Cat."</p>
<p>Steve blinked at him.</p>
<p>(Prompt via AvengersGen.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	meow.

**Author's Note:**

> Written from the prompt on AvengersGen: http://avengersgen.livejournal.com/4655.html?thread=461359#t461359
> 
> "Zola wasn't able to completely replicate Erskine's serum, so over the years he experimented with other techniques to enhance the Winter Soldier's abilities. One of these was experimenting with feline DNA with the goal of enhancing the Asset's night vision and reflexes.
> 
> The genetic enhancement had some unforeseen behavioral effects that were concealed by the Asset's heavy psychological conditioning, but once Bucky broke free, they became a lot more obvious."

# reveal  
  
"He's not a stray cat," Steve frowned.  Bruce figured Tony had been talking out of his ass again.  
  
"That's not what I'm saying," Bruce replied, holding up his hands to hopefully defuse the temperamental soldier.  
  
He'd learned Steve didn't need to turn green to Hulk out.  Captain America was head of the Avengers, but Steve Rogers was a ruthless army of one on the hunt for his best friend.  
  
"Zola's experiments went on for years and we only have scraps of his research.  We had nothing on this - but his DNA's been altered, Steve."  
  
Steve's eyes flashed and he clasped his hand on the edge of the desk.  "Okay."  
  
Bruce hesitated.  "Not like yours, or mine, or Red Skull's.  I don't know everything they did to him, but he has...feline traits.  Cat."  
  
Steve blinked at him.  
  
"I wouldn't joke about something like this.  It's just a cruel coincidence that Tony's jokes are more true than any of us knew.  His vision at night is better than ours, he's light and silent on his feet and his hearing is greatly enhanced.  They infused him with feline DNA."  
  
Steve shook his head slowly with distant eyes.  "Okay.  Noted.  What else?  Do you think - "  
  
"I can't make any predictions on how much of his memory he'll get back, but his body - his brain - it's healing ahead of schedule.  So his physical health is great, it's the mental part of the equation you're going to be dealing with."  He hesitated again.  "Do you have a plan?"  
  
Steve shrugged vaguely.  "A ball of yarn and some tuna?"  
  
Bruce patted his shoulder.  "The repairs to his arm should be finished in a couple of hours and you can take him home."  
  
  
  
# welcome  
  
Steve pushed the key into the lock and turned, forcing himself not to look back and check on Bucky standing behind him.  
  
"Should I go?" Bucky asked after a beat.  "You seem nervous.  There's no security here, if - "  
  
"I'm not a shrink and the docs say you need a shrink.  I don't want you to go anywhere, this is me trying to come up with a plan when I don't know what I'm planning for," Steve replied honestly.  
  
"You're the only person I trust," Bucky said immediately.  "I don't want any more strangers in my head."  
  
Steve nodded.  "I know, that's why we're going to figure this out together.  I have to set up the security system once we're inside."  
  
All he'd heard since Bucky showed up, shivering and soaked outside of his hotel room in Madrid, was how dangerous he was and needed to be locked up.  Steve wasn't willing to lose him when he'd just found him.  When Bucky had just found himself.  
  
The programming was wearing off without HYDRA's regular 'recalibrations' and Bucky's personality seemed to be coming back a little bit at a time.  It had taken 3 weeks to convince him to meet with Bruce and Tony to have his health and arm checked out and that was more progress than he'd hoped for this soon.  
  
He took a deep breath and pushed open the door.  
  
It was a tiny house, two bedrooms with one a half bathrooms with a large living area open to the kitchen to make it look like more space.  Natasha and Clint worked together to set up a perimeter alarm around the stripes of yard surrounding the house on all sides.  They'd made sure the alarm extended the same distance overhead for aerial threats, or guests.  Steve had access to view the traffic cams and hidden cameras set up around the house from his phone.  He didn't know if he'd ever get used to the phones in the future.  
  
Bucky's eyes darkened with intent once Steve closed the door.  He tilted his head up and his nostrils flared as he sized up the house.  
  
Steve could adjust.  He was good at adjusting.  "Go ahead and check it out.  Meet me in the kitchen when you're done and we'll talk."  
  
Bucky didn't seem to care about the hinted 'talk' they were about to have and darted silently into the hallway.  
  
The house didn't have much more than furniture and a couple of boxes from his short stay with Sam but he watched Bucky patrol, crawling under both beds and checking the closets.  Steve could ignore the 'cat' bombshell until Bucky climbed onto the dressers and entertainment center to search for listening devices.  Or mice.  
  
Steve could adjust.  
  
He'd learned a few triggers by now and placed a sealed bottle of water on the table and drained a bottle of orange juice for himself.  He preferred milk but Bucky wouldn't come near anyone with a glass or carton of milk.  It was a 'thing'.  
  
Bucky returned with cobwebs lingering in his hair.  He sat down in front of the bottle of water, checking the seal before taking a few generous swallows.  That was good.  Progress.  "House is clean.  Found some spiders in the crawlspace but I took care of it."  
  
"Thanks," Steve replied evenly.  Shit.  
  
"I thought the docs said I was okay.  What did they tell you?" Bucky asked after a long moment.  
  
He hadn't meant to stare.  "Oh.  They told me about the cat thing."  
  
Bucky flinched but didn't lash out right away.  "Yeah.  Meow," he said dryly.  Testing.  
  
Steve leaned back against the counter.  "I want to help you get better.  We both know you're not my Bucky, and I'm not your Steve - we can't go back to that.  But if you can accept me as a confused, thoroughly messed up old man - then I'll accept that you hunt spiders and climb on shelves."  He hesitated.  "You didn't eat the spiders, did you?"  
  
Bucky snorted but there was a flash of relief, and surprise behind his eyes.  "I'm not that bad.  I smushed them.  And you're not messed up."  
  
"We're both pretty messed up but we'll get better.  So, house rules?"  
     
Bucky's eyes narrowed so he continued quickly.  "If you make a mess, clean it up.  If you cook, wash the dishes.  If I'm having a bad dream, don't touch me when you wake me up.  And don't touch the thermostat."  
  
Bucky blinked at him.  "Why?"  
  
"I don't like to get cold," he replied, crossing his arms.  "You get to make rules, too."  
  
Bucky considered it.  "No dogs.  Sam kept talking about therapy dogs but they make me...jumpy.  No milk, but you know that one already.  And you probably shouldn't touch me when I have a bad dream, either."  
  
Steve nodded.  "We've lived together before but we have different habits now.  We're both flying blind but we're here, isolated, so you can figure out who you want to be now that you're free."  
  
Bucky pushed the chair back and stood up.  Steve wondered what he'd said wrong and Bucky walked over and embraced him too tightly with his metal arm.  It took a moment for him to process the slight vibrations against his chest.  "Thanks," Bucky said in a rumbled purr.  
  
Maybe he'd buy some yarn and tuna after all.  
  
  
  
# glitch  
  
Steve left Bucky at the house to hopefully settle in and unpack his Sam-approved clothes.  Steve owed a lot to Sam for setting up the house and backing off until Bucky was ready for more socialization than he'd been since they found him.  
  
When he arrived back with supplies, Bucky was sitting in the same position by the door as he'd been when Steve left.  He had bits of tissue in his hair.  
  
"Everything okay?" Steve asked after he'd scanned him again.  
  
Bucky waved his hand absently.  "We're out of toilet paper."  
  
Steve didn't check the bathroom until after he'd put the groceries away but the toilet paper had been ripped to shreds and fluttered across the floor like it was snowing.  
  
Really?  He turned to look at Bucky who was pretending not to watch from the end of the hall.  "Really?"  
  
"I didn't like that kind," Bucky replied without looking at him.  
  
Steve considered it.  He took a fresh roll from under the sink and rolled it down the hall like a streamer.  Bucky's eyes snapped to attention and he pounced on all fours to eliminate the threat.  Steve thought he spotted claws on his good hand but he couldn't be sure considering the blizzard of tissue.  
  
"I'm not getting you a litter box," Steve sighed.  
  
"Fuck you.  This shit is cheaper than we used in the war, I don't want this coming anywhere near my ass," Bucky said.  His argument was slightly invalid since he was sprawled on his back with tissue raining down around him.  
  
Steve wondered if he could take him shopping for unoffensive toilet tissues without an international incident.  "We'll discuss groceries later, but until then, stay out of my bathroom.  The broom's in the kitchen."  
  
He would rather deal with Bucky as a cat than as an assassin.  They could do this.  
  
  
  
# nesting  
  
Sam's sage advice continued to be 'take it slow' and 'no sudden movements' but Steve wasn't sure he didn't consider Bucky a feral creature like Tony and the others seemed to think of him.  
  
Steve just wanted him to be safe.  Healthy.  Whole.  Or at least less broken.  
  
He didn't know if either of them could ever be fully whole after seventy years of separate hells.  
  
Steve couldn't sleep in the strange house so he took advantage of the massive coffee table to set out his new art supplies and turn on the TV to queue up something mindless to fill the quiet.  
  
Bucky emerged from his room, not quite stalking, but almost.  He waited for Steve's nod of acknowledgment before taking the cushion beside him.  "What are you watching?"  
  
"Whatever you want.  I don't understand most of what comes on these days," Steve said.  "I don't think I want to understand it."  
  
Bucky scanned the table and his hand darted out suddenly, rolling all the colored pencils into the floor with a clatter.  "Um."  
  
"Now you're just being an asshole," Steve accused.  
  
"No - it's - the way they look when they roll, it's, like, I have to touch them," Bucky replied, hurriedly picking up the pencils.  
  
Steve studied him.  "Is it getting worse?"  
  
Bucky hesitated, glancing at him shyly but with no trace of dishonesty.  "I think, this is what I'm like now.  There's Bucky, then there's the assassin, and then the cat - a trio of people.  Now that they aren't splitting us apart, it's like, we're healing together.  I have the Winter Soldier's skills, the cat's instincts and Bucky's personality."  
  
Steve reached out and splayed his fingers over Bucky's metal hand.  "Bucky's soul.  No matter what kind of serum or DNA they push into us, we're still the same deep down.  Right?"  
  
Bucky swallowed thickly.  "So...it's not too weird?"  
  
He shook his head.  "Not too weird.  Yet."  
  
"Then if I ask you if I can rip the blinds down in my bedroom and claw them into itty-bitty-bits, you won't get mad?"  
  
Steve took a deep breath.  "Do you have a good reason?"  
  
"Neighbor's got a birdfeeder," Bucky replied.  
  
"Try again," Steve snorted when Bucky laughed at his own joke.  
  
"They block too much sun and the air from the vent sounds weird going through the blinds if they're tilted the wrong way," Bucky said after a long moment.  
  
Steve was reassured by the honesty.  "This is your house, too, so you can do what you want.  I just don't want you to get in the habit of destroying personal property.  Maybe use a screwdriver and take them down before you rip them up?"  
  
Bucky beamed at him.  
  
"I want to be able to be yourself, whoever that is.  But I also want you to be aware when you're being weird."  He hoped he could explain it out loud.  "The definition of 'normal' doesn't really apply to us, but I had to learn not to say 'ma'am' to ladies and you have to learn not to rip up toilet paper if you're in a public restroom," Steve said.  
  
"I'm not going to lick myself or cough up hairballs in public, if that's what you're worried about," Bucky said.  He took a swat at the pencils again to prove his point.  
  
  
  
# guests  
  
Bruce was proud of himself for avoiding Tony and Natasha's continued attempts to interrogate him about the results of Bucky's tests.  
  
He really wished he could discuss it with someone else just to get a second opinion, but he'd promised Steve discretion.  Bucky had been tortured and even though The Winter Soldier's sins weren't Bucky's; he shuddered at the thought of someone taking control of the Hulk's strength the way they'd done to him.  
  
He buzzed the doorbell of the small house and took note of the manicured lawns between the suburban clone houses.  Steve answered with a warm and surprisingly relaxed grin.  "Hey.  Come in."  
  
"How is everything?  Threat level?" he smiled as he stepped in.  
  
"Low," Steve shrugged.  "We haven't decided on lunch yet, we're just sitting around being confused."  
  
"Anything I can help with?" Bruce asked, pointedly putting his binder of notes on the coffee table.  
  
He spotted Bucky sprawled on his back in front of the window, conveniently in a man-sized patch of sunlight with a book held open over his head.  
  
" _Dianetics_?" Steve asked, sinking into the couch.  
  
Bruce gasped.  "Where the hell did you get that?"  
  
"L. Ron Hubbard was around when we were growing up, decided to see what happened to him," Bucky replied easily.  
  
Steve made the sign of the cross and glanced at the small crucifix hanging above several framed photographs across the room.  Bruce never thought he'd be comforted by Steve's blatant Catholicism.  "But it's bullshit, right?  When he reads 'Going Clear', he'll understand that it's bullshit," Steve said, looking to Bruce for agreement.  
  
Bruce studied Bucky's lazy grin and put Steve out of his misery.  "I'm pretty sure he's messing with you."  
  
Steve frowned and flipped Bucky the finger.  "I can't always tell.  Are you going to talk Science at us now?"  
  
"Don't make it sound like such a bad thing.  I just wanted to check in, see how everything's going," Bruce said.  It took a moment for him to process that the low rumble in the background was a purr.  Bucky was purring.  Oh.  
  
"He's talking about the cat thing," Bucky said sliding over as the square of sunlight moved slightly.  
  
"I'm going to ask Thor what he knows about _Thetans_ ," Steve murmured distantly, snapping back to Bruce.  "Oh.  He's fine."  
  
"But he is displaying traits,"  Bruce stated.  
  
Steve nodded.  "Sure.  But now that he has his freedom, he's learning to control it himself, not letting anyone tell him what to do."  
  
Bruce had questions.  "Okay, but - "  
  
"I'll show him.  We'll have to tell your friends eventually and you're all about socialization," Bucky yawned, stretching and pushing himself to sit up.  He was still purring.  Fascinating.  
  
Steve shrugged and took the binder when Bruce focused on Bucky.  
  
"I ran some more tests and your DNA can't be traced to a particular species, it's a mix of several strains of domesticated felines," Bruce said.  
  
Bucky held up his flesh hand and flexed his fingers to extend short and curved claws.  "So you're saying I'm a housecat."  
  
Steve glanced up, scanned Bucky curiously and then returned to the research with a shrug.  
  
"Well.  I guess you could say that," Bruce said.  "Can I see your claws?  How sharp are they?"  
  
"Not too sharp," Steve answered.  "He can rip up curtains but can't cut steak."  
  
Bucky rolled his eyes.  "I can't cut his steak because he overcooks it."  He moved beside him and held his hand out for examination.  "Surprised you aren't interested in the metal one."  
  
"That's Tony's obsession," Bruce replied as he strummed his fingertips over the claws.  "I heard you purring, what other feline qualities have you noticed?"  
  
Bucky opened his mouth and hissed expertly, startling Steve into dropping the folder.  "Don't do that!"  Bucky grinned.  
  
"I like it when Steve scratches right here," Bucky said, thumbing his hair behind his ear.  "I hate dogs more than HYDRA, well, equally hate them at least," he edited.  "I like to be warm - "  
  
"He volunteers to do the laundry so he can roll around in it," Steve said without looking up.  
  
"That was one time!" Bucky protested.  Steve glared at him.  "Okay, twice."  An eyebrow later, Bucky groaned.  "Fine, all the time.  It's warm!"  
  
Bruce glanced between them.  This must be what having a brother was like.  He'd seen the videos of The Winter Soldier but he wasn't seeing any sign in this man.  
  
"He can see at night and he's jumpy as hell, but his quirks aren't detrimental to his health or safety so it's okay," Steve said.  
  
Bucky lowered his voice and leaned in.  "I think the squirrels next door might be HYDRA."  
  
"He's messing with you," Steve said.  
  
"Hey, those things are a menace.  The tomcat across the street agrees with me."  Bucky caught both their looks.  "Cats don't really talk but we've reached an understanding.  He stays out of my yard and I distract the old lady when I get the mail so he can check out her goldfish pond."  He hesitated.  "I thought you could, maybe, make her a casserole so I could walk over and check it out."  
  
Steve opened his mouth and promptly closed it again to think before he spoke.  "Um.  Okay.  You don't have to ask for permission to visit the neighbor but you aren't allowed to call her 'old' or stalk her goldfish.  Or birdfeeder," he added.  
  
Bruce wanted to ask if Bucky was actually eating the local wildlife he stalked through the windows but kept the question to himself.  He'd ask Steve later.  
  
Steve spoke softly.  "He's only a little bit homicidal now.  Bucky and his...feline bits are in control when the assassin part's not activated.  They haven't been in charge in a long time so I want to give him as much time as possible to get used to to the cat before we start working on the assassin part."  
  
"Seems to be working so far.  I'm glad," Bruce said honestly.  
  
"I won't eat the squirrels.  I don't eat raw meat or cat food," Bucky said suddenly.  "It's just...play."  
  
Bruce considered it.  "Maybe you should see if Sam can get a therapy cat to keep you company when Steve's not here."  
  
"I hate dogs.  Do they make therapy cats?" Bucky asked, perking up.  If he had cat ears, Bruce had a feeling they'd be at full alert.  
  
"They don't make cats, but I don't see why we can't adopt one from the shelter, if you want," Steve replied thoughtfully.  "I'll check with him."  
  
"You should invite him over, too.  You talk a big game about socialization but you haven't called any of your friends," Bucky pointed out.  
  
Steve seemed surprised.  
  
"I like Sam and Bruce.  And Natasha, sometimes.  It's okay if they know about the 'cat thing'," he added.  
  
"Oh.  If you're sure."  
  
Bucky nodded and moved back to the patch of sunlight and stretched out again with his book.  "You told me I have to make my own decisions and this counts, right?"  
  
Steve nodded.  "Right."  
  
  
  
# strays  
  
Sam glanced at Bucky when he heard the first purr outside the animal shelter.  Steve had filled him in but seeing it for himself, or hearing it, was different.  
  
Bucky noticed his attention immediately and the sound stopped.  "Sorry.  I can't do that in public.  Don't tell Steve I forgot."  
  
"Hey, he actually let you go outside with someone without him; that's a big sign of trust," Sam said.  "Besides, he needs to get out more himself, he still makes a lot of Grandpa mistakes.  You ready for this?"  
  
Bucky nodded decisively.  "Yeah."  He lowered his voice.  "I'm not myself yet.  If I can settle down the feline side, maybe I'll be able to start dealing with the Bucky parts and be strong enough to go for the rest."  
  
Sam was surprised by his openness and didn't want to mess it up so he patted the man on the shoulder.  "You've made tremendous progress.  If you think this will help, I believe you."  
  
"If a dog comes too close to me, I'll hiss.  Watch my back," Bucky said when they made it to the door.  
  
"I warned the boss that you had a dog phobia so we should be okay," Sam smiled.  "She's helped out some of my vets before."  
  
Bucky seemed to accept that but Sam took note of his tension when they stepped inside.  "I can smell them," he murmured.  "No hissing.  I'm on it."  
  
The head of the shelter stepped out to greet them and Sam gave her a grateful hug of thanks when she held out the keys to the cat room for him with a warning to not let any of them out of their cages without calling her first.  
  
Sam hesitated at the door.  "Are you going to be all right seeing them in cages?"  
  
Bucky rolled his shoulders methodically.  "If they are unharmed and safe, I will accept their temporary prisons."  
  
Muffled meows and yowls filled the hallway when he opened the door but the place went silent when Bucky stepped in.  
  
"Weird.  Go, chat with your people.  _Thundercats - Hooo_."  Sam gave an encouraging fist bump in case the reference went unappreciated.  
  
Bucky rolled his eyes and walked up to the first of the crates holding wary cats.  He didn't open his mouth but the curious mew sound definitely came from the assassin that tried to kill him last year.  Sam didn't hear a reply from the cat but Bucky moved down to the next row and made another soft noise.  Then he hissed and moved to the next section.  He wondered what that cat said to him.  
  
"Do you know what you're looking for?"  
  
Bucky paused and tilted his head in Sam's direction.  "I need one that will be able to help Steve, too.  Not every cat wants more than one person to look after."  
  
Well.  "Of course.  Continue, do your thing."  
  
A bored meow interrupted Bucky's glare and his gaze narrowed on a cage on the opposite side.  Bucky rumbled deep in his throat and a different cat replied.  Bucky snorted.  And _smiled_.  
  
"Think Steve's going to be pissed if I bring home more more than one?" Bucky asked.  
  
"Uh.  Should I call him?"  
  
"No, I'll apologize for it after.  He'll like them, I think," Bucky said.  
  
Sam joined him by the cages and spotted the three kittens lined up at the edge of the bars.  They were old enough to be weaned but too young to be called cats yet.  The biggest, due to fluff, was solid white with piercing blue eyes.  A black kitten was crouched down with his paws crossed in front of him and a sleek gray kitten perched on his back in a sprawl and licking between his ears  
  
"What's so special about these?  Are they siblings?" Sam asked, holding his fingers up to the grate to be sniffed.  
  
"Yeah," Bucky said.  "The white one's a punk, I think Steve will like her.  The boys like me."  
  
"You sure?" Sam asked.  
  
The white kitten mewed, demurely and Bucky smiled again.  
  
"I'll get Constance to put the paperwork together, but you're the one explaining to Steve why you brought home three kittens instead of one cat," Sam said.  But they both knew Steve was a pushover when time Bucky asked for something that was actually possible for him to give.  
  
  
  
# cartoon  
  
"This is exactly how I pictured your deprogramming plan to go," Natasha said, her lips twitching when she took in the scene.  
  
Steve carefully dislodged a fluffy white cat from his thigh and hurried over to greet her and Barnes only gave a hesitant wave from his spot in the window where more cats were frolicking between his raised knees.  "Hey, Natasha.  Should I ask how it went or - " Steve started.  
  
"First introduce me to your new additions."  Natasha had always wanted a cat but she wasn't 'home' enough.  
  
"White one's Luci, gray one's Pal and black one's called Nixon," Steve said.  "Now, did you - "  
  
"He's going a little stir crazy, please give him something to do," Bucky called from the window.  
  
"I ran down every lead I had, it'll take a while to dig out any Intel we missed.  I see things are progressing well here," she replied.  Luci approached, gave Natasha a dismissive sniff and pawed at Steve's leg with a piteous meow.  
  
"Luci's short for Lucifer, I'm pretty sure Bucky chose her just to harass me," Steve sighed but scooped up the needy kitten and settled her in the crook of his arm.  
  
Bucky shrugged and a cat fell off his shoulder.  
  
"What exactly is happening here?  You explained about the feline DNA, but is he training a platoon of cat minions?" She really wanted to know everything about everything that was happening here.  
  
Steve shrugged.  "If so, they're plotting to declare war on the squirrels down the street."  
  
"They're enemies of America, Steve.  They're enemies of _Freedom_ ," Bucky said with wide eyes.  
  
Steve sighed.  "Anyway.  He's getting better."  
  
She smiled.  "You got a guest room for me?"  
  
"Sure, but I have to warn you that you'll probably wake up with a kitten in your bed," Steve said.  
  
She shrugged.  "I've slept in more dangerous places."  
  
"When you're done going over the Intel, I think we should start making plans for the actual deprogramming.  I think it's time to face the human parts of the problem now that I've got the feline part quiet," Bucky said suddenly.  
  
Steve shifted uncomfortably but nodded.  "If you're ready.  We'll need backup for that."  
  
"Why?" Bucky asked, tilting his head.  Like a fucking cat.  She did not smile.  At all.  
  
"Because I'm too compromised to be involved in this part.  Thor's coming into town next week, he can fill in as muscle," Steve said.  Natasha was relieved he'd been thinking of options.  
  
Bucky frowned and Nixon puffed up and almost hissed until he calmed him with a metal pat.  "You're probably right.  I'd like to do it here, but I don't want to run you out of the house."  
  
"The cats will look after you," Steve said, watching carefully as Luci allowed Natasha to pet between her ears.  "And Sam and Natasha will be here, too."  
  
Bucky skimmed her, judging her silently just like Luci and shrugged.  "I guess she'll do.  But don't go far or I'll invite Mikey over again."  
  
Steve frowned darkly.    
  
She had to know.  "Who's Mikey?"  
  
"Orange tomcat from across the street.  He's a bad influence," Steve muttered.  Bucky grinned widely.  
  
  
  
  
# treaties  
  
_"You didn't tell me Thor could talk to animals."_  
  
_"I'm not sure I knew that."_  
  
_"He's trying to broker peace with the squirrels.  Mikey is not amused."_  
  
_"Mikey's not in the house, is he?"_  
  
_"He scratched up the couch one time and you'll never forget it, but that's not the issue here - "_  
  
_"Bucky.  You didn't call me to talk about the squirrels."_  
  
_"Uh, yeah I did.  If we give up the birdfeeder three houses down, they'll give up the fountain territory with the ducks.  Ducks, Steve."_  
  
_"I'll call Thor."_  
  
_"Thank you.  We can't give up the birdfeeder."_  
  
_"Okay."_  
  
_"Okay.  Other than that, things are all right."_  
  
_"All right?"_  
  
_"Yeah.  Thor's a good guy when he's not talking to squirrels and I remember a lot more than I did last week.  I think...I think without regular brain-wipes, there's not enough of the Winter Soldier to take the driver's seat.  Just me."_  
  
_"Triggers?"_  
  
_"Natasha's got a list, I think.  Nothing's tripped yet.  The cats help.  Luci misses you."_  
  
_"I miss her, too.  All of the cats.  Sam and Nat say you're doing really well, but I'm glad you called.  I needed to hear it from you."_  
  
_"A few more days and you should be cleared to come home.  Maybe we can talk about setting up a duck blind."_  
  
_"I'm going to preemptively veto the rest of that suggestion."_

**Author's Note:**

> In my headcanon, Scientology would blow Cap's mind.


End file.
